Starlight
by DarkShootingStarMagician
Summary: Ryou Bakura has lived a lonely life. When he's presented with an invaluable gift, the gift soon turns to a curse, and Ryou soon lives a life of darkness, isolation, and fear under a voice that merely wants to please him.
1. Chapter 1

**I decided I wanted to write a slight prologue to Little Star. But about Ryou Bakura.  
So, enjoy.  
You actually do not have to be reading Little Star to understand.**

Disclaimer: I do not know every detail about Ryou Bakura's life. Some is speculation amongst fans, some are facts, and some events are made to fit the story as to how I want it.

**Starlight**

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"_The high destiny of the individual is to serve rather than to rule" Albert Einstein_

The bells were chiming, and in a small bare apartment, a boy looked up and cast his gaze to the single window in his room. The window was opened a little bit, as it had been a lovely autumn day. The boy realized that he would definitely miss the bells and their merry chimes. He silently counted them, until it hit twelve, and he gave a soft sigh.

Midnight.

It was a dreadful hour to the boy. Many painful memories had taken place at midnight. Usually he tried to be asleep by eleven at the very latest. But tonight, was his last night, in a place he called home. Even if it didn't really feel like home anymore.

Once the bells final chimes had cleared the night, his soft brown eyes scanned the bare room. Only the furniture was left. Everything else that he owned were in boxes and suitcases, neatly aligned next to the door. He had spent the majority of his week packing away the little possessions, tossing old school work, out grown clothes, and anything else that wasn't necessary to pack.

He finally stood up to his full height, stretching as he remembered one last thing that had to be packed away. His Role Playing Game. Monster World.

Sadly, he shuffled out of his bed room and across the hall to another room that he had dedicated to his games. He had built shelves, a table, and searched the town for cheap furniture to lay his many figurines. He needed the table to hold the game board, and had spent many hours building and painting his world.

There were fond memories, he certainly liked sitting by himself with a little bit of music playing in the background quietly, as he designed and built new figurines to put in the game, or arranging game pieces. He supposed, those were the only times he felt content.

Unfortunately, there were just too many horrible memories that went along with this room.

Pulling a few boxes in, he carefully began to take down the game and set it in the boxes, making sure they were well padded or that no pieces would break during the move. Next, he packed the miniatures, his most prized ones going in their own box of course.

"W_e've certainly had some fun in this room. Haven't we landlord?" _a voice whispered into his ear. The boy swallowed, not bothering to reply to the voice, as he took out a marker and began to scribble "Monster World" onto them, so that way he knew where they were. Four boxes total. He took out a notepad and wrote down that information. The notepad had all of his belongings written down so that way if something went wrong in his move, then he could know and possibly report it. Then again, he was rarely assertive, would a box of nothing really be worth such a fuss?

Sighing some more, he sat in his usual chair, surveying the empty room and looked up at the clock. It was three in the morning. Tiredly, he slipped his brown eyes shut, thinking about the time when it all had gone wrong.

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**And that was the prologue**

**Review please **

**~DSSM**


	2. Prologue to the darkness

**Chapter 2 **

**Starlight**

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_"The life of the dead is place in the memory of the living"  
Marcus Tulius Cicero_

The nightmare had started at such a young age, that Ryou almost wondered if he was doomed to be trapped in eternal fear and suspicion. Anything good that happened to the young boy, would soon turn sour. Shadows surrounded his heart and soul, and he had always been too afraid to let anyone close.

But it hadn't always been like that. If Ryou really concentrated, sometimes, he could remember life. He could remember fun, happiness, joy, excitement. Positive feelings.

It all started with Amane.

Amane was his younger sister. A beautiful and spirited little girl. She was full of life, and had many dreams, hopes, and ideas.

Ryou had always admired her cheerful attitude, and he supposed, that he was happy for a little while. His father had a stable job working at a local university, his mother would be home to make sure he and his sister would stay out of mischief, and take care of them.

But, it was so long ago, and those memories were so fuzzy and vague.

However, there was one memory that stuck out to the young Brit, that he could never forget ever in his entire life.

It had been a rainy afternoon, he was bored, and irritable. At school they had kept the children inside and away from the cold dreary weather. And now at home, he was forced to sit still as his mother made dinner, and his sister drew with her crayons on the living room floor.

The smell of pot roast had filled the house, and his stomach gave a rumble, begging to be given some attention. He flopped against the back of the couch, scowling down a little bit at his sister who was lost in her own world. She was so infuriating with her cheerful smile on such a crummy day, drawing fields of sunshine and flowers. Ryou had watched as the light had hit her golden white hair, and kept fingering his own white hair. That day, out of boredom and irritation, three boys at school had picked on him for his hair length and color. White was not a color for boys, it was for old men who were near their death beds.

They had pulled and tugged on his thick white locks, making the child whine and beg to be left alone, which only prompted more jeering and taunting on his behalf. Finally a teacher was said to be near, and the boys had left him alone in the hallway. His school supplies and books scattered everywhere along the wet and muddy floor.

Looking at Amane's hair had sparked a jealous rage over him. She had fair golden hair that every girl was jealous of. Claiming she looked like a fairy tale princess they had seen in books and movies. His mother and father were always boasting and talking about her successes at the dinner table, and encouraging Ryou to pick up on a skill he and his sister could participate in together. Amane was intrigued with her mothers flute, perhaps they could put him on piano. Amane liked to draw, perhaps Ryou should go into painting.

No, his father would argue, he needed to learn languages and mathematics in order to lead a successful life. His mother would protest saying she wanted the two siblings to learn how to dance, as a gentleman should always be able to escort a lady on the dance floor.

He had been signed up for a dance class, and he dreaded to think of what the boys at school would say once they found out. And they would soon enough. In fact, his mother said once dinner was done, they were to go to the studio for their first lesson that evening.

At seven years of age, Ryou could think of many things he would prefer to do. Watch a cartoon before bed was one thing that came to mind, or read. He was getting old enough to where he would read in bed by himself before the lights went out.

So naturally, he was very annoyed and resentful of his sister at the moment. Deep down, Ryou knew Amane had no control what her parents did, and it wasn't her fault that he was signed up for these lessons. But he had to be angry at someone!

"What do you think Ryou?" Amane asked as she held up a picture. He looked at the crayon covered sheet uninterestedly, however, couldn't deny it wasn't bad. He assumed it was him and her dancing in a field, as she had not bothered to color in his hair.

Why was he stuck with white hair? His mother and sister both had pale blonde, and his father had a deep blue color. It just wasn't fair.

"It's dumb," he had muttered about her picture. Amane just gave him a look between hurt, disappointment, and annoyance. She didn't bother to say anything, and merely turned back to her coloring until the two children were called for dinner.

"We must hurry, your lessons will start soon." Mrs. Bakura urged her children to eat their food quickly "I don't want you to be late."

"I don't want to go." Ryou moaned pitifully, hoping that would be enough to make his mother reconsider.

"Too late, you're all signed up, and you're going."

"Mom." he groaned "the kids will make fun of me-" he began to protest,

"But they'll be jealous of you when you're older." Mrs. Bakura pat his head "Trust me, you'll have all the girls want to dance with you because you can make them feel special. Now eat."

"Who cares about girls when I'm older?" he grumbled, "I don't want to go!"

"Yes Ryou, I heard you the first time," she brushed some blonde hair behind her ear, her blue eyes staring down at her son sternly. "But that isn't going to-"

"Why didn't you ask me first? What if I don't want to learn how to dance? What if I wanted to do something else? Why couldn't you put me in soccer?!" he cried out,

"Ryou." her voice was a warning, but Ryou continued to complain to his mother, until finally, one minute before they were to leave, she finally caved. She would try again the next lesson, but didn't want to put her son into the class, for fear that he would get himself in trouble. Amane was all buckled in, and had listened to the argument silently, so when he was finally dismissed from the car, he shot her a smug smile. This time he had won the battle, and he was going to win the war!

"I'll miss you big brother!" Amane shouted "You really should come, it might be fun!"

"It'll be no fun being with a bunch of girls." he had grumbled. Vaguely, he could hear his mother scold him and tell him to sit in his room until his father got home. But he wasn't paying much attention, his brown eyes had been fixed on his sisters blue ones. She wasn't staring at him in hurt or resentment. But there was an odd look in her blue eyes, and Ryou, had a bad feeling stirring in the pit of his stomach. It was almost like he was looking at his sister for the last time.

But the exhilaration of winning an argument had made him push such feelings away, and he walked back inside the warm house, and went into his room just like his mother had said. However, he couldn't help but peek through the curtains and watch his car drive away.

Suddenly, he had felt cold, and bad for talking back.

He watched as the car disappeared around the corner, and for years to come, he would wish that he had shut his mouth, and buckled up with his mother and sister.

–

Ryou's small hand was held firmly in his fathers big one. But despite the skin contact, Mr Bakura, and Ryou felt cold. Not a trace of warmth lingered in their cold bodies.

They stood in a grassy cemetery, two coffins lying side by side as the men began piling dirt on top of them.

Of all days, it was sunny, the breeze felt nice against their backs, and the large crowd that had gathered around the two gravestones, stood solemnly, watching as their beloved friend and family was being buried beneath the earth.

Ryou's neck tickled with the wind and his white hair brushing against the exposed skin. But he paid no mind as finally, the earth piled on the coffins and separated him from his mother and sister forever.

Ryou vaguely remembered how his father had come home that rainy night, shocked and disappointed that his son was still home. And when Ryou had confessed that yes, he had talked back to his mother, he had gotten really mad. But before he could give Ryou a piece of his mind, the phone had rang.

The child watched as his father picked up the reciever, answering a bit gruffly, thanks to the frustration he had felt with his son. However, after a moment, his voice had cracked in an "o-oh" sound.

Ryou remembered clearly how his fathers red face had suddenly paled. His clenched hand loosened and had nearly dropped the phone to the ground. Mr Bakura had to steady himself on the counter as he took in the news.

"_I'm sorry, there was a terrible accident. The driver was drunk and well, in this weather, he didn't have a chance to miss them. She died on site. But your wife is in critical condition." _

Mr. Bakura hadn't even thought about calling a babysitter or leaving his seven year old son alone. He had scooped the young boy up and put him in the other car before driving as fast (and safe) as he could to the hospital. The hospital had been busy, with men and women in green pajama like clothes, scurrying about hurriedly to the various wings and rooms the hospital had. Ryou had watched them, as his father had carried him to the critical wing.

Mrs. Bakura lay on the bed, tubes and wires strung all around her as she desperately clung to life. Ryou watched as his father had run into the room, talking rapidly to the doctor, who was shaking his head and patting the older man on his shoulder.

All the while, the young child had stared at his mother in awe and horror as the color drained from her face slowly. Her hands relaxing before falling over, and the heart monitor going dead, as her heart had finally given up. Letting her leave this cold and wet world, and hopefully, to a better place.

Ryou recalled that he had not shed a tear. Shock had taken over his entire system as he had seen his mother slip from this life.

The next few weeks were a blur. Ryou was pulled from school, told that he would finish at his own pace and try to attend the next school year. It was a good thing, Ryou couldn't bear to face the other kids at school, all who would feel bad and whisper about him in the halls.

On top of that, Ryou couldn't recall seeing his father after the funeral. He wondered if he was just so far gone that he hadn't even noticed his father wandering around the house aimlessly. Touching his wifes side of the bed and her clothes.

Had Ryou paid attention, he would've noticed that his father looked at him with concern and desperation. The light of his youth was gone from his eyes, as he stared unblinkingly into space for long periods of time. His son had refused to talk about the last time he had seen his mother alive, and while Mr. Bakura knew enough that they had an argument, the fact that Ryou wasn't crying, or acknowledging the world around him was worrisome.

But no therapist would be able to fix this problem. Nothing would ever help Ryou get over the guilt that he would face every single hour for the rest of his life.

"_Why did I have to fight her? Why was I so resentful?" _Those sad and angry thoughts would linger with the boy, for the rest of his life.

Time moved on in a daze. Mr. Bakura dug into his work as a meager means of comfort. His job was to examine and evaluate historical pieces to determine who and what it could be. He spent many hours in the lab at the university to be away from his silent cold home.

Meanwhile, Ryou mostly kept to himself. He had finished his school work, and had the summer to heal. At this time, he began to take up art. He didn't dare touch his sisters old crayons, or she would be annoyed he ruined the tips. Instead, he took up other activities that had been suggested by his mother. Sculpting and painting. He would first make himself toys just to fill in the times of the late summer day.

However, one summer day, his father was home early, not being needed at the lab-much to the older man's disappointment-and told to go home as he was pulling too much overtime. Mr. Bakura was listening to some music, and Ryou found himself tapping his foot to the beat. Soon enough, his hand followed suit, tapping against the table and moving his lips to the lyrics.

Now, for the first time since his mother and sisters death, did he finally feel tears well up in his brown eyes. Moving his body to the rhythm was soothing and even fun. Who cared if he would've been surrounded by girls? Maybe, he would've enjoyed it.

And now he would never know. Ryou put his face in his hands and sat back, crying quietly to himself as he came to grips as to what he had done.

"This is for the best son." Mr. Bakura looked down at his son tiredly. His broad shoulders were pulled back in both pride, and stubbornness. His job had something to offer him, and he was all too eager to take it.

Ryou only stared at his father in horror,

"Father, you can't be serious though, I can't leave here." he whimpered out. "I can't even finish school if I'm with you."

"I know that," Mr Bakura pat Ryou's hair gently, "I know. Which is why I'm going to leave you here. I've hired a nanny to look after you."

Of course. Ryou bit his lip and looked down. To be stuck with a strange woman? Being told what to do by a stranger and having his life being dictated by someone who had no right to order him around!

"I want you to come with me. But I want what's best for you first." Mr. Bakura said, and for the first time in a long time, Ryou lifted his gaze to meet his fathers.

The two were very different. Ryou definitely had his fathers eyes, they were the same shade of chocolate brown, but that was the only trait they shared. Except, that Mr. Bakura's eyes were hidden behind thin wired glasses and were ringed with dark circles and wrinkles.

"I don't want-" Ryou stopped himself, those were the same words he had whined to his mother, before she had left him in a huff and he found that the next time he would see her, she would be lying nearly dead in a hospital bed.

"I know." Mr. Bakura's brown eyes looked sad, and worn down. "But, we all have our own way of dealing with these things." he said gently. "And, I must go see the world, and find hidden treasures that it has to offer. You'll do better to stay here, where it's familiar and come to terms with what has happened."

It had been nearly a year since the two had been left alone together by their dearest loved ones. But Ryou knew his father was right, and was grateful that he wasn't being pushed into therapy, or sent to a boarding school.

And so, reluctantly, Ryou had accepted his fathers decision. His father had always wanted to be an archeologist and go out to see the world. He had married far too early, but now, he had his chance. The pain of losing half of his family had really just been too great to bear, and so he had to go.

However, Ryou now wondered, what would become of him?

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**Hope you liked it and if you did leave a review please!**

**DSSM**


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